


just a moment

by lalaland666 (orphan_account)



Series: The Rabbit and the Seraph [15]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Oscar Wilde Trials, Queer History, Role Reversal, azra and oscar wilde weren’t together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lalaland666
Summary: Oscar Wilde is convicted. Azra tries to hold himself together.Crowley is there when he falls apart.
Relationships: Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Oscar Wilde, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Rabbit and the Seraph [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853713
Comments: 3
Kudos: 73
Collections: comfort fics





	just a moment

**Author's Note:**

> I’d apologise for the barrage of angst lately but I’m not actually sorry about that lol. I did my best with the historical research in this one, but I’m afraid I’m only as good as good as my sources. I hope you guys all enjoy!!

**_London, 25 May 1895_ **

Azra clenched his hands into fists, staring at the judge, almost feeling as though his hatred could burn a hole into the wretched man’s head. He felt more demonic than he had in a long, long time, hearing him read out the sentence– 

Up in the defendant’s seat, Oscar let out a quiet noise, and behind him, Constance and Robbie both were crying. Azra’s fists clenched tighter, and he stopped breathing entirely to avoid the stink of grief and pain and the utter eagerness for more of the same that hung in the air. 

The trial had been a public spectacle the whole way through, and even now officers were lining the courtroom, searching for anyone else they could arrest in the aftermath. Azra didn’t bother to miracle himself invisible, as he otherwise might have. Let them try to arrest him. Let them try. 

Oscar was escorted out of the courthouse and bundled into a prison cart outside, and the majority of the crowd tailed after him, leaving Azra, Constance, Robbie, and a handful more mourners, as well as several officers, alone in the courthouse. 

Azra forced himself to stand, picking his way through the benches to where Constance was rubbing soothing circles into Robbie’s back. 

“My dears,” Azra breathed. 

Constance looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I warned him and warned him, I knew Douglas was a good-for-nothing louse, and now…” 

“Two years,” Robbie said, shaking his head. “It’ll destroy him.” 

A wave of greed wafted over the group, and Azra looked up to see that one of the officers was leering at he and Robbie, his hand slowly drifting to the baton at his hip. 

“Come along, my dears,” Azra said softly, taking both of their hands. “We’re being stared at, and I should hate to lose either of you, as well. Constance, where are the children, my dear?” 

“At home,” Constance said. “They didn’t need to see this.” 

“You should get back to them,” Azra said. “There’s nothing more to be done now. I’m sorry.” 

“Azra…” Robbie said, clutching Azra’s hand a little tighter when he went to pull away. 

“I’ll help however I can, don’t you worry,” Azra said, squeezing both of their hands gently before pulling his own free. “Robbie, you won’t– Douglas can’t touch you. Not if there’s anything I can do about it. If either of you need anything at all, you know where to find me. But, you two ought to get home, before… anyone notices.” 

Constance tugged Azra into a hug, squeezing him tightly. 

“You’re an angel, Azra,” she breathed when she let him go. 

Azra only barely managed to hide his wince. 

“Be careful,” Robbie said, laying a gentle hand on Azra’s arm. 

The scent of greed wafted over the group again, and Azra glanced over to see two officers emerging, their eyes fixed on the perfectly innocent gesture. 

“I always am,” Azra said, patting Robbie’s hand once. “Now go. Please.” 

Robbie looked over at the officers as well, then nodded, offering his arm to Constance. They walked off in search of a hansom cab, and Azra watched them go, digging his nails into his palms in a vain effort to keep his composure. 

Then he left, as well, making his way back to the bookshop. 

He could feel Crowley’s presence inside from a block away, warm and comforting and bright as it always was, and Azra had to pause on the doorstep, taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut to wrestle back his tears. It wouldn’t do to break down on Crowley out of nowhere. He had to keep himself together, just for a little while longer. 

Azra opened the door, stepped through, carefully locked it behind himself, and then called out, as confidently as he could manage, “Crowley, my dear, I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule. I’m– not going to be good company today.” 

Crowley emerged from the back room, a vision in white and gold and red, his brow furrowed and his eyes wide and concerned, and Azra’s vision blurred with tears despite his best efforts. 

“M’not expecting you to be ‘good company’, or whatever,” Crowley said. “I, ah. I heard about Oscar.” 

Azra’s breath caught in his throat, and the tears broke through his fragile barriers before he could stop them. 

“C’mere, bunny,” Crowley breathed. Azra heard a soft snap and the sound of the curtains in his shop closing, and then Crowley was pulling him close, holding him tightly, firmly, so warm and solid, and Azra let out a quiet noise that he’d later deny was a whimper, his own hands flying up almost despite himself to clutch at Crowley’s jacket. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, pressing his face into Crowley’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to hide from the angel. “I’m sorry, Crowley, I shouldn’t–” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Crowley said, tugging Azra a little closer, rubbing soothing circles into the space between where Azra’s wings belonged. “I’ve got you, yeah? Let it out.” 

Azra whimpered again, clinging desperately to Crowley, the tears coming harder now, despite his best efforts. 

_How do they manage it?_ he thought, a choked half-prayer sent up almost desperately. _How can they be so very cruel? Is it You who made them that way, or did they discover it themselves? Why is it always,_ always _love that ruins it? Why give them that gift if You only planned to punish them for it? Why give it to any of us, if You only ever meant to rip it away? What’s the point of any of it? Was it always meant to come to this, or have You given up on us all entirely?_

He didn’t dare say any of it aloud, although he might have if he were alone. But Crowley was here, and he was already so good at picking out the very questions that he wasn’t meant to ask, and Azra knew as well as any demon how very, very thin the line was between the Fallen and the rest. He couldn’t take that risk, couldn’t bear the thought of his own useless, aimless doubts and questions being the thing that pushed Crowley over the edge. Nothing was worth that risk. 

And so Azra cried silently in Crowley’s arms, wrapped up in his achingly gentle embrace, until his eyes finally ran dry and his breath began to even out once more. 

“There we are,” Crowley murmured, gently lifting Azra’s chin and wiping the last of the tears from his cheeks. 

“Your coat,” Azra said as he spotted the damp spot on the pristine white shoulder, feeling his face flush with shame. “I’m sorry–” 

“Don’t be,” Crowley said, shrugging. The spot vanished with the motion, lifting away as though it had never been there in the first place. “I just conjured all this this morning, s’not like I care about it, really.” 

Azra nodded, still not entirely trusting his mouth not to say something utterly stupid. 

“Right,” Crowley said, his voice still so painfully soft. “C’mon, you need some water or something, and you should probably sit down for at least a bit, yeah?” 

“You don’t have to,” Azra said, even as Crowley led him deeper into the shop, conjuring a glass of water as they went. “My dear–” 

“Sure I do,” Crowley interrupted. “S’my job, isn’t it? Doing the whole comforting schtick.” 

“I’m not sure Gabriel would agree with you.” 

“Eh, Gabe can bugger off,” Crowley said, pushing Azra down onto the sofa. Before he could protest, the demon found himself wrapped in two layers of blankets, with the glass of water in his hands and a cup of wine within easy reach. Crowley hovered over him, his eyes darting across Azra’s face. “Anything else I can get for you? I could go grab some food, probably, if you want, or–” 

Azra very nearly teared up again, clutching at the glass in his hands so that he wouldn’t reach out for Crowley. “Just sit, please? Just… just for a moment. Please.” 

“Course,” Crowley said, sprawling out on the sofa beside Azra. “I’ll stay, bunny. Long as you want me here.” 

_Always,_ Azra thought. _I’ll always want you to stay._

Then he shoved the thought away, taking a sip of the water. 

They sat in silence for a long moment while Azra slowly, carefully pieced himself back together. 

Eventually, Crowley cleared his throat. “Did you two, um. Did you ever…?” 

“No!” Azra said quickly, shaking his head. “No, no, we never– I wouldn’t– he’s, well, he’s not– not my type.” _He’s not you._

“Ah.” Crowley glanced over at Azra then, his expression inscrutable. “But you do love him.” 

Azra let out a laugh that hadn’t even a trace of amusement in it. “I’m a demon. We’re hardly built for love.” 

“Bullshit,” Crowley said, in a much more gentle voice than Azra had expected. “I know you, Azra. I can feel–” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, bunny. I wish I could’ve helped.” 

_You still could,_ Azra thought, despite himself. _Talk to Upstairs. See why so very many of them end up Down with us. See if the humans really have got the wrong end of it with Sodom and Gomorrah. See why it is that they’re all left with naught but the two of us to protect them from one another._  
He forced that thought away, too. “There was nothing to be done, I’m afraid. I tried.” 

“I know.” 

Azra took another sip of the water, his hands shaking. After a moment, he sucked in a deep breath, and before he could lose his nerve, he blurted our, “Could you… talk to me?” 

Crowley blinked over at him. “Talk to you? ‘Bout what?” 

“Anything,” Azra said. “Whatever you like. I just…” _I failed, again, at protecting them today. I failed Oscar, and Constance, and Robbie, and the children, and all of the rest of them, too, all the people who were watching this trial in hope of– of_ something _, of some reprieve, of even a moment of hope. I failed them all, I couldn’t change a thing, and I so desperately need to hear your voice and know that there’s still one being left in all of Creation that I haven’t failed to protect yet._ “I just want to… please.” 

“Of course,” Crowley said, scooting just a little bit closer, so that his side was pressed up against Azra’s through the blankets and his arm was draped gently over the demon’s shoulders. He cleared his throat, then started talking, aimless, rambling things, about whatever new technology he was trying to push for this year, human advancements in medicine and science, a new restaurant that had opened up close to where Crowley was living, anything and everything light and comfortable and distracting. 

Azra let his eyes fall shut, let himself lean into Crowley’s side, soaking up the burning heat of him, the scent of fire and light and ozone and the earth after rain. Just for a moment. He could only let himself have this for a moment. He knew, not far from now, he’d need to straighten back up, migrate over to his armchair, piece his armour back together. He’d need to go back to being a demon, a tempter. Back to being a shield, a guardian, for all of those who Heaven simply refused to guard (after all, if Heaven had abandoned them, then they belonged to Hell, and only an idiot wouldn’t defend their own). He’d need to go back to being unbroken, unbothered, unchanged by all of the horrors of Heaven and Hell and humanity, even after so very many years. He didn’t dare lose what he’d fought so very hard to maintain, not when losing his place could spell trouble for so very many others. 

But, for now… 

For now, it was just him and Crowley, alone together. Just the two of them, cocooned in the soft, warm comfort of his shop. No one was watching. No one was around. And Crowley… 

Crowley was the only one that Azra had ever protected who’d ever dreamed of returning the favour. 

And so Azra let himself relax, just for a moment. Just for a moment. 

That was all that the two of them ever had, and for that, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Any comments and kudos you guys leave always make my day!!


End file.
